


The Disaster Twins Get A Disaster Talk

by Necro (Charlie_M)



Series: The Disaster Twins [4]
Category: Mortal Kombat (Video Games), Mortal Kombat - All Media Types
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Crack, Disaster Twins, Eldritch, F/M, Family Dynamics, First Crush, Fluff and Humor, It's all as innocent and harmless as the twins have crushes could be, Kid Fic, No Angst (no matter what the twins say), No abuse, The Talk, awkward teenage flirting, blind vengeance au, cryptid children, no beta we die like everyone in Aftermath, or at least Nix's approximation of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:21:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25559500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie_M/pseuds/Necro
Summary: The twins are thirteen when it happens.“How are children produced?”“I told you,” he tells Nix, “Uncle Shang’s womb.”“I do not have a womb,” Shang Tsung sputters, “and more importantly, I’m offended that you think you could be my offspring.”
Relationships: (but not really) - Relationship, Kung Lao/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Disaster Twins [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1701553
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	The Disaster Twins Get A Disaster Talk

**Author's Note:**

> You won't actually have to read them getting The Talk, but you know, I never skip an opportunity to make Quan Chi suffer. At least he's not alone this time.
> 
> Also, in case anyone has a delicate gag reflex, there's a very brief and vague mention of a prank the twins have pulled, involving insects. So, like, heads up if you need it?

The twins are thirteen when it happens.

It’s breakfast. Nix is tearing into her third sweet roll, but shovelling in fruit whenever Quan Chi sends her a pointed look, and Nate is dutifully inhaling enough meat to make up for the portion his sister is abstaining from. They are quiet. Unsettling, suspicious. Though they are natural masters of the art of telepathic conversation, the aptly-named Disaster Twins have never been truly quiet since the day he adopted them.

Shang Tsung sends him a look that is equal parts apprehensive and questioning. So he’s noticed as well. Well, then. What could it be this time? Quan Chi racks his brain for what mischief, what little prank, they could have gotten into that he somehow hasn’t noticed.

Have they scrambled all the words and letters of his official documents into incomprehensible babble again? Did they turn one of the floors into jelly? Have they repeated (or worse, escalated) the Reiko-related dead-flies-and-mud incident?

Just as Quan Chi is picking the appropriate words to express a mix of accusation and worry, Nix pipes up.

“How are children produced?” she asks, with careful articulation that means she’s (unusually) aware that it’s a delicate subject.

Objectively, he always knew this day would come. The twins are growing in every sense of the word, and _this_ is just another aspect of it. He would be remiss to neglect what is, essentially, just another facet of their education and development.

But gods, there is nothing he’d rather discuss less.

Shang Tsung snorts and sits back in his chair, sipping his wine with a smug smirk. “Oh, _this_ ought to be good.”

Nate huffs, props his elbow on the tabletop and drops his chin into his hand, petulant and impatient. “I _told_ you,” he tells Nix, “Uncle Shang’s womb.”

“There’s no way every child in the world came from Uncle Shang’s womb,” Nix answers, rolling her eyes. This is a new mannerism she’s picked up. Quan Chi isn’t sure where she got it from, but he hopes it’s not like the first time she learned about shrugging.

“I do not have a womb,” Shang Tsung sputters, “and more importantly, I’m offended that you think _you_ could be my offspring.”

The twins forgo their bickering long enough to level him with identical blank expressions. Not only do they not believe him, but they are also offended that he thinks they’d fall for such an obvious lie. Of course, they’ve called Shang Tsung “mother” in the past, but infrequently enough that everyone assumed it was just another of their games to irritate him. If this means they have done so sincerely this whole time… no, it doesn’t bear further thought.

“Phoenix, Nathan,” Quan Chi begins, giving them his most severe parental look, “what brought all this on?”

They don’t glance at each other. They don’t even hesitate.

“The stars speak,” Nix says.

“The shadows are whispering,” Nate continues.

“We hear it in the wind,” they finish in unison.

Quan Chi has had them for quite a bit of time now, which means he can tell when they’re lying about 50% of the time. They certainly do hear (and see and sense and just _know_ ) things from the stars and shadows and wind, and an unfathomable number of unfathomable things. But they are also chaos incarnate and occasionally use their well-earned reputation for their own amusement.

With most people, they could get away with it. On any other day, about any other subject, Quan Chi would humor (and by that he means _ignore_ ) their antics as long as it didn’t interfere with his work. Not today, though, and not about this. He chooses the easier target of the two of them.

“Nathan.” He watches his nephew’s expression tense. His eyes slide away so far that they almost roll into his head, and his cheeks puff out like he’s holding his breath. A line of pink blazes across the bridge of his nose. Ah, yes. The weak link. “What has caused you to ask about reproduction?”

“This is an injustice!” Nix protests, catching onto the strategy.

“I’m aware,” Quan Chi replies coolly. “Now shut up and eat your eggs.”

She scrunches up her nose, but does as she’s told. He steadfastly ignores his fork, now a small two-headed serpent, both heads of which are glaring at him balefully. At least it hasn’t bitten him— yet.

“Well, it’s just, uh, that, um…” Nate says— or fails to say, anyway. And then he forces out a tidal wave of words in a language Quan Chi doesn’t know. In fact, he somehow knows that it’s not in any language that’s existed since the One Being. It also causes the curtains to catch fire (again) and the stubborn black streak in Nix’s hair briefly turns pink.

Following this, Nate screams (which shatters _another_ window) and his flush deepens so much that his skin spontaneously bursts into dazzling colors and patterns. This is alarming, not because his nephew is once again violating all laws of biology, but because Quan Chi has never seen him _embarrassed_.

“Phoenix.” He’s caught her just as she’s tilting her chair to escape into a lightless void in the air behind her. She sits forward again with such a mutinous expression he’s surprised nothing inanimate gets up and runs away. “What is this about?”

“We saw a couple of pretty boys.”

They _what._ “ _And_?”

“And we got curious about courting!” she explains. “But then Massac said—”

“ _It will be a miracle if you little monsters are unable to reproduce your insanity_ ,” Nate parrots in perfect replication of Massac’s voice.

“We didn’t understand,” Nix concludes, “and we can’t figure it out.”

Nate nods. His skin still hasn’t returned to its normal hue. “We’ve tried.”

Oh _gods_.

“Blood circles, ichor sigils…”

“Deep space _and_ deep ocean—”

“At the same time!”

“We even asked the servants...”

“But they _still_ won’t talk to us...”

“It was just a room with carnivorous glitter!”

Quan Chi pinches the bridge of his nose and conjures an impressive bottle of something with a very high alcohol content. He takes a long, long, _long_ drink before attempting to address his twins, who are now staring at him so intently that it still makes him sweat a little after all this time.

“And all this,” he manages, “over a couple boys?”

“ _Pretty_ boys,” Nix corrects.

Quan Chi wasn’t aware that she even had a metric for attractiveness, considering she once told him that she “doesn’t know what a face is” and therefore “doesn’t care if there’s marshmallow on it.” But now, apparently, she finds _someone_ attractive enough to ask about _courting_.

“The _prettiest_ boys,” Nate agrees, almost dreamily.

Quan Chi takes another long, long drink from the bottle in his hand. Who could they possibly be speaking of? Most of their friends are girls and they’ve never shown special interest in the few boys they play with. Whoever these “pretty” boys are, the twins must have met them recently…

“Oh!” Shang Tsung says, who apparently got ahead while Quan Chi was drinking. “Oh, this is _too_ good. This is— I couldn’t have _orchestrated_ this.”

The only time and place where they’ve had any opportunity to meet strangers their own age is— _no_.

An awful sense of foreboding blooms in his chest, the vain hope— wish— that the cosmos won’t be that cruel to him.

Shang Tsung is outright cackling now. He snatches the bottle from Quan Chi’s numb hand, apparently to pour himself a celebratory drink.

“Phoenix, Nathan,” Quan Chi begins, his voice sounding odd to his own ears. Not that the children notice _that_. No, they blink at him with their strange eyes, heads cocking, expressions interested. “Where did you meet these boys?”

“The party,” they answer.

The party. The party that has been more or less mandated by the Elder gods since the first Mortal Kombat tournament, a chance during peacetime for the realms to interact with the hope of forming friendships. For the last several centuries it has been an opportunity for Shao Khan to publicly antagonize whichever realm he plans to conquer.

The children were in attendance, of course, because there was nothing _else_ he could have done with them. They were not the only ones. 

“And what are the names of these boys?” Quan Chi asks against his will.

“Kung Lao!” Nix chirps at the same time Nate proudly proclaims, “Liu Kang!”

Quan Chi inhales deeply, closes his eyes, exhales. Inhales _deeply_ again.

“ _Raiden_.”

*TWO WEEKS EARLIER*

 _Kung Lao is trying to be brave, he really is. But everyone at this party—_ gathering, _Lord Raiden emphasized,_ this is a serious matter _— is so much bigger than him. Bigger and scarier._

 _Some of them are carrying weapons the same size as him. Some of them seem like they_ are _the weapon, with huge teeth and bony spines growing from their skin. Some people have huge leathery wings and horns. Some people might not even be people. He’s not sure. He can’t find Lord Raiden to ask._

 _They got separated about thirty minutes ago and Kung Lao is trying to be_ brave _. So that Lord Raiden won’t be embarrassed, so that he knows he made the right choice to bring Kung Lao along. He doesn’t even know where Liu Kang is anymore, they’re both so small compared to everyone else here._

 _There’s too many people— beings— and Kung Lao is so busy ducking and dodging around them that he can’t get his bearings. Is Lord Raiden even still_ here _? What if he left and he didn’t realize—_

_A giggle is his only warning before a blur of purple collides with him. Kung Lao isn’t prepared, doesn’t widen his stance in time, and hits the ground in a tangle of limbs. He didn’t think there would be enough room to fall over, but now there’s a small circle of space made by the guests around him, though they pay him no mind. Like they did it without being conscious of it._

_When he glances up and a little to the side, his eyes are met by two bright purple lights. The lights blink, tilt, and the vertical black line within each widens slightly._

_“You’re so pretty!” a voice blurts._

_And Kung Lao realizes all at once that those aren’t lights, those are_ eyes _, and they’re attached to a girl who’s kneeling by his side. A_ girl _. And she called him_ pretty _. She tilts her head the other way as he scrambles back a couple inches, his face erupting with heat._

_Before he can manage a word, a man storms up to them. He’s just as big as everyone else, with spiky armor and black markings on his face. He sneers at the girl as she peers up at him from the ground, expression serene._

_“Your uncle isn’t here to protect you now.”_

_“He doesn’t protect us,” she informs him, matter-of-fact, “he protects_ from _us.”_

_The thing is, they’re not using a language Kung Lao knows. He’s somehow aware that it’s not a language he should be able to speak, but he understands them anyway. There’s something like... like static at the edges of their words, fizzing in his ears. All he can do is sit there, dazed and a little scared, and watch._

_“What is there to be protected from?” the man scoffs, but Kung Lao notices that he doesn’t reach for the girl. “A tiny thing like you?”_

_Her eyes light up even brighter somehow. “Would you like a list? I can tell you which thing will kill you, and when, and how you’ll feel when it does, and the patterns your blood will make—”_

_“Shut up.”_

_“Well then don’t_ ask _,” she huffs, rolling her eyes._

_“One day, I’ll kill you.”_

_“It’s nice that you have the capacity to imagine.” She sounds like she means it._

_The man storms off, looking very much like he’d rather make good on his promise. The girl then turns back to Kung Lao, smiling like he’s in on a secret._

_“I-I didn’t know there were other kids here,” he splutters for lack of anything else to say, and realizes too late that he’s speaking the wrong language._

_But she answers without hesitation. “Children don’t exist.”_

_His head still spinning around the last conversation— which he wasn’t even a part of— he’s not prepared for her to speak to him the same way._

_“W-wha?” he asks._

_“We’ve all existed since creation, you just don’t remember it,” the girl informs him brightly._

_“I-I don’t—”_

_“It’s okay, you will one day.”_

_And that makes an involuntary, nonsensical shudder go down Kung Lao’s spine. His heart is beating hard and fast in his chest, his palms are sweaty. But that might just be because the girl is leaning closer, her pale purple hair curling around her face, and it smells like incense and rainfall, and he’s not sure why she’s—_

_“Why are you resonating so high?” she asks, tugging his sleeve to focus his attention. “You’re too pretty to be resonating at that frequency.”_

_He pushes at her shoulder, trying to muster up some indignation through his embarrassment. He is a_ warrior _, he’s a descendent of the_ Great Kung Lao _. He is_ not _pretty. And he wants to be away from this strange girl that makes his mouth dry— but also he… kind of doesn’t? She’s the first person his age that he’s seen since he lost Liu Kang, and the first guest at this party that’s acknowledged him without being obviously threatening._

_Still, he’s supposed to be here for a reason, even if he doesn’t really understand what that reason is. Lord Raiden is trusting him._

_“Look, I really need to find my friend and d— uh… sponsor.”_

_She makes a trilling noise, and her pupils— like a cat’s, he thinks vaguely— narrow. Her smile glints a little oddly, her canines just a little_ too _sharp. Still, it’s a nice smile._

_“I know where they are,” she offers, but the way she says it is like she doesn’t understand why he would need to find them._

_He perks up. “Really? Wait, how do you…?”_

_She laughs. “I know where everything is.”_

_He narrows his eyes in disbelief. “No way.”_

_“Which way is no?” she asks, blinking._

_He jerks back, feeling a little lightheaded. Maybe he shouldn’t get so distracted._

_“Can you actually take me to them?” he says instead of answering._

_She looks a little disappointed about that, but nods. “Oh! Yes, if you’d like. But I think you’ll have to go one at a time because Uncle says no one else can go to different places at once.”_

_Kung Lao is afraid that this means that she_ can _. He almost wants to see it, but some sense of self-preservation for his sanity keeps him from inquiring further. He stands up, only to find that the girl has as well, even though he didn’t see her move. She beams at him._

_“I’m going to take your hand,” she tells him seriously, “but don’t worry, not literally.”_

_Well, now he is worried._

_But the girl fits her hand in his and begins tugging him through the crowd. She doesn’t really go around anyone, and no one really seems to get out of their way either, yet it’s the easiest Kung Lao has been able to move all night. They catch a few half-frightened, half-baffled glances, but no one stops them._

_In the meantime, Kung Lao considers his strange guide. She can’t be more or less than a year from his own age, but she’s slightly shorter than him. Her clothes look fancy, he thinks, but he doesn’t have much of a metric with all the different types of dress around them. And her hand in his is warm and soft, and his skin tingles a little— too warm now, he’s sweating again, dear_ gods _—_

_“Who are you, anyway?” he blurts._

_She sends him a curious glance over her shoulder, still deftly navigating through the crowd. “What?”_

_“Who are you?” he repeats, thinking she couldn’t hear him over the music they just passed._

_“I don’t know,” she answers._

_He stops. She does as well, turning to face him, questioning. It’s like she’s not aware of anything she’s saying, and Kung Lao is_ too _aware. She hasn’t even said all that much!_

_“You… don’t know who you are?”_

_She shrugs. “Who does?”_

_“Everyone,” he says a little shrilly. He clears his throat. “Everyone knows who they are. I’m Kung Lao.”_

_She makes another trilling noise— he’s starting to figure out that it means she’s solved the puzzles he doesn’t realize he’s giving her._

_“My name is Phoenix, but please call me Nix.”_

_“Nix,” he repeats. The name tastes sweet— literally— and a little spicy on the X._

Nix _makes another not-human noise. A bit like the trill, but higher and softer and she seems satisfied with his response._

_“Come, come,” she says, tugging on his hand to get them moving again, “before my brother gets too attached to your friend.”_

_And given all the things she’s said (and not said) some small part of him worries that she means that literally._

_“You know people think the universe works in pairs?” Nix starts, then continues before he can speak. “People also think that those pairs work in opposites, but that’s not true. There’s no such thing as opposites, which is why it’s going to bother me.”_

_“Going to?”_

_She hums the affirmative, which answers nothing, but then comes to a halt with an excited noise._

_“Ah, there they are, Kung Lao.”_

_He sidles up beside her, follows her strange gaze to a pair of boys, one familiar and one not. The latter has dark green hair, shaggy around his face and ears. The former is Liu Kang, looking a lot like how Kung Lao feels, but with less confused wonder and slightly more uncomprehending fear._

_“Ah, Nate likes him,” Nix muses, as Kung Lao watches the other boy’s shadow_ reach _._

_“What is he doing?”_

_She hums. “Experimenting.”_

_And Kung Lao is struck by the surety that that could prove fatal. And sure they argue and compete with each other, but Liu Kang is his brother._

_“C-can you stop him?”_

_Nix turns to peer at his face, intent but curious. Like she doesn’t understand but she’s willing to humor him._

_“Of course I can.”_

_“Will you?” he demands._

_She blinks as if just catching on to his meaning. “You would like me to?”_

_“_ Yes _.”_

_“Okay.”_

_And then she releases his hand and darts at her brother, tackling him from the side. Liu Kang stumbles back a step and Kung Lao hurries to his side, giving him a quick once over. Apart from looking quite alarmed, he doesn’t seem any worse for wear._

_“Lao?” he asks. “What is going on?”_

_“I’m… not really sure?” Kung Lao answers, “but uh… the purple one is nice. I think.”_

_The purple one in question pops to her feet, beaming. “There!” Her brother follows at a more sedate pace, shaking himself off and cracking his neck loudly. She continues, this time to Liu Kang, “Nathan says you’re pretty.”_

_Kung Lao smugly watches his best friend squirm, even though he had the exact same reaction not so long ago._

_“He… said that,” Liu Kang admits._

_She hums. “Don’t worry, he understands now.”_

_He looks like he’s about to ask her to explain herself, but Kung Lao is learning that it’s better not to. Not because she won’t answer— or even because she’ll lie, because he’s pretty sure that she hasn’t so far— but because it’ll just make everything more confusing and scary. So he interjects, immediately earning her undivided attention._

_“Could you take us to Lord Raiden now?”_

_“I am,” she assures him._

_He doesn’t point out that they’re not walking anywhere. So far, apart from being confusing and a little impossible, she hasn’t steered him wrong. Lacking anything else to say, he glances between the two siblings and says the first thing that comes to mind._

_“You’re twins?”_

_“Yes,” they answer in unison._

_His brow furrows. “I thought you said the universe didn’t happen in pairs?”_

_She blinks at him, and he has just enough time to realize that her pupils have widened before she’s standing very close to him. Close enough that he thinks he can see literal stars in her eyes._

_“You’re_ so _pretty,” she repeats, tugging at his sleeve like this is something very important that he needs to pay attention to._

_“Uh, I don’t really…”_

_He’s saved by a familiar voice. “Liu Kang, Kung Lao, there you— Elder gods above!”_

_Nix takes a small step back, turning her head to smile almost_ politely _at Lord Raiden._

_“Hello again!” Nate chirps._

_“What have you two done?” he demands, quickly moving in between the two pairs of children._

_Nix hums. “We’ve lived and died a thousand lives,” she offers._

_Lord Raiden scowls. Kung Lao feels an unpleasant curl in his gut even without that look being trained on him, but Nix just giggles. Liu Kang shuffles further behind the thunder god._

_“Where is your— where is Quan Chi?” Lord Raiden asks._

_“Oh!” Nate says. “He’s in this realm of existence, don’t worry!”_

_Nix nods sagely, but her eyes keep flicking to Kung Lao._

_“You two should be returning to him,” Lord Raiden scolds._

_Neither of them seem to understand, but then the thunder god is swiftly ushering him and Liu Kang away._

_Later, when he explains who exactly the twins are and what their roles will one day be, Kung Lao is almost surprised by the inexplicable disappointment he feels._

_***_

In the end, they have the discussion in the Flesh Pits, because the setting should match Quan Chi’s feelings on the matter. He sits the children— teenagers, he reminds himself— on one of the counters (where he can keep a close eye on them, out of habit) and tries to decide where to begin.

“Well,” he starts, clasping his hands behind his back, “I’m sure you’re both aware that your bodies have begun to… transform.”

“Yeah, and not in the usual ways,” Nix says.

“They’re not going _back_ ,” Nathan agrees.

“Indeed,” Quan Chi coughs, “nor will they.”

“ _What?!”_

Shang Tsung laughs from the stool he’s observing from. Quan Chi shoots him a scowl before pinching the bridge of his nose. This shouldn’t be so difficult, he tells himself, it’s quite a simple process in essence, a clear progression of biological mechanics. And yet…

“I’m getting the court physician,” he announces.

“How disappointing,” Shang Tsung scoffs, “you can’t even manage to do this?”

Quan Chi narrows his eyes. “If you believe you could do better, by all means,” he invites.

Shang Tsung opens his mouth, glances at the twins, who have now turned their expectant gazes on him. Closes his mouth and finishes his wine, which automatically refills itself.

“The court physician it is.”

By the time they finish dragging the pale and shaking head physician down to the Flesh Pits, Nix and Nate are losing patience. The former is eyeing a beaker of something black and bubbling, while the latter seems to be debating the merits of swimming in the acid pools.

“Explain puberty and reproduction to them,” Quan Chi orders.

The physician sighs with relief. “That’s all?”

At the looks she receives, she hurries on to begin explaining. Whatever else the children are, they have always been apt learners when there’s something worth their time. They sit still and listen, heads tilting at intervals when something in particular catches their attention, but never interrupting. Quan Chi drops onto a stool next to Shang Tsung to monitor the situation. He’s both concerned for the Disaster that’s about to happen, and relieved that it won’t be _his_ fault.

They get through the first half of this torturous lesson before the doctor pauses.

“Do you have any questions so far?” she asks.

For all the trouble the twins get into, they rarely have to visit her, since they somehow manage to avoid injury at every turn. The few times they have, however, they seem to like her well enough. That is to say, they sit or stand and obediently tolerate her poking and prodding.

“What you’ve said,” Nix begins slowly, “this is… definitely going to happen?”

“Yes.”

Nate’s brow furrows. “How do you know?”

“Divination?” Nix guesses.

The doctor laughs. “Not at all. This is just how biology for your species works.”

They stare. Blink. Exchange glances. Stare again.

“What?” Nix’s voice is shaking. Uh oh.

“‘How it _works_ ’?” Nate repeats, voice cracking. “How it works… for everyone?”

The physician makes a vague hand gesture. “Within your species. There are exceptions, but for the most part… yes. And you two aren’t exceptions, for once.”

They look… appalled. Utterly appalled.

“You mean it’s _predictable?!”_ Nix demands. “How?!”

“And _we_ do it too?!” Nate adds.

“Well, yes,” the physician says, still patient, “based on your last checkup, you’re developing normally. More or less.”

The children are silent. They look the way other people do after meeting them for the first time.

“Did you… have any other questions?” the doctor continues. “Does it make sense? Are you ready for the rest?”

The twins look like they’re ready to set something on fire.

“ _There’s more_?!” they gasp, scandalized, devastated, and horrified. “There more you can tell us? With accuracy?”

She smiles sympathetically. “A bit, yes, and it’s also fairly predictable. At least as much as I can tell you at your age.”

She continues her explanation, and while the children look miserable, they don’t look nearly as uncomfortable as Quan Chi feels. Shang Tsung continues to sit there, unfazed, the bastard.

When the physician finishes, waiting for questions, there’s a beat of silence.

And then.

Nate bursts into tears. Nix bursts into hysterical laughter.

Quan Chi drops a handful of coins into Shang Tsung’s outstretched hand. He needs… so much alcohol. More alcohol than likely exists.

“Thank you, Doctor Izana, that’ll be enough for today,” he groans, standing to collect the twins, who have not yet recovered, and probably won’t recover for several days.

“Well, if they… need anything, I’d be happy to help,” she offers before quickly exiting.

“Uncle, this is terrible,” Nix giggles. “This is the worst day of my life.”

“Why couldn’t it be… be _glitter_ or confetti or…” Nate sniffles.

Quan Chi sighs, deeply, and wonders why the Elder Gods are cruel to him, specifically.

“Would an ice cream cake suffice to improve matters?”

“Maybe,” they offer.

“Very well, come along.”

Shang Tsung looks far too amused as the three of them leave. Perhaps, if the twins are still feeling… like this later, Quan Chi can set them loose in his lab. If nothing else, it would improve _his_ mood, at least.

“Wait,” Nate blurts, “does this mean we _didn’t_ come from Uncle Shang’s womb?”

“ _Y_ _ou already knew that!”_

***

In Earthrealm, a furiously blushing Kung Lao (with Liu Kang in tow) approaches a certain father-figure who doubles as a god of thunder.

“Hello boys, what is troubling you?”

Kung Lao sucks in a fortifying breath.

“Lord Raiden… how does… reproduction work?”

Raiden manages to scream only on the inside, and wonders why the Elder Gods are cruel to him, specifically.

**Author's Note:**

> So,
> 
> You know there is no 13 year old in the world that is "pretty". I might expand on this in a later fic, but let's just say Nix and Nate don't think the boys are cute because of their looks.
> 
> I also plan on writing more fics of them as children, this idea just happened to come to me. These fics are definitely not in any particular order.


End file.
